Legends Beta (AVLT)

[subject42]

Alright folks, it looks like everything is ready to go in the OOC thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=11004642), so let's get this show on the road.

For convention, all flavor text will be styled with italics. Unless I say that we are entering initiative, feel free to keep things free-form.


Much like any other morning on the HMS Lithos, you wake in your bunk at four bells. Booted feet stomp past your quarters as their owners trudge toward the mess hall. Your hammock rocks arhythmically; the Lithos must be flying through some rough air. Your quarters are dark and windowless, and the air is thick with the burning incense and herbs that fuel the engines. At least today they're burning something that pairs nicely with the salt pork smell wafting down the corridor from the mess.

[Master_Rahl22]

Galamaethor stretches and wills his aura to activate, illuminating his small cabin. He dresses by the familiar light and takes a moment to turn it off before leaving the cabin and heading for the delicious smell of pork.

[subject42]

As you activate your aura, it reveals the details of your sparse accomodations. Your hammock hangs to the right of the door, with a sea chest beneath it. Opposite the chest, a single stool rests beneath a small desk jutting out of the bulkhead. A Light Iron sits unlit in its sconce.

As you exit the door, the corridor stretches off into the distance, Light Irons are placed at regular intervals to drive off the shadows. The entire corridor is constructed from a heavy, reddish wood.

The long tables bolted to the floor of the mess are already quite crowded with both passengers and crew. Low conversations ripple across the hall, but most people keep to themselves.




Light Rod: A light rod is a metallic rod that is approximately two feet long and an inch and a half wide. When struck against a hard surface, it glows as brightly as a torch for roughly four hours. Afterwards, it may be struck again. The rod is not hot enough to set the wood bulkheads of the ship on fire, but it will certainly boil water.

[dark9174]

Hacel wakes up instantaneously, a trait taught by the other monks, and jumps out of bed. He puts on his cloth shirt, his cloth pants already on, and joins the other passengers on the way to the mess hall.

[subject42]

A quick trip up the ladder takes you to the same deck as the mess hall. The line is starting to build up a bit, but it's not long before you get a plate of beans and a slab of bread. The crew is beginning to clear out; the ship won't run itself.

[SPLH]

Brad yawns and stretches in his hammock, almost falling but catching himself at the last moment. His head hurts, courtesy of the cheap booze he drank liberally at the gambling table yesterday. He gets down, straightens up his messed up clothes, and goes out hunting for some fresh air and breakfast.

[subject42]

You sit down to your breakfast, relishing the fact that airship passengers never suffer the rolling upheavals of a surface vessel. The fact that a ship's breakfast is superb hangover food doesn't hurt either.

You notice a man at the end of your table breathing unevenly. Further inspection shows that other diners are behaving strangely as well. Some men rock back and forth in their benches, others grip tables and take great, heaving gulps of air.

A crewmember suddenly leaps to his feat, throwing his neighbors onto the floor. He claws madly at his throat and tries to scream. Only a choked gurgling escapes his lips.

[Master_Rahl22]

Galamaethor jumps up from his seat and looks for anything that might be attacking the crew members.

[roll0]

[subject42]

No visible external force is attacking the crew. With a retch, the first crew member falls to the ground and begins to vomit a black liquid that evaporates as soon as it hits the deck. Other afflicted quickly follow suit. The black cloud obscures the lights. The mess hall grows dark.

[dark9174]

Hacel runs over to the first person to show symptoms and attempts to identify the cause.

Medicine check
[roll0]

Natural 20!!

[Master_Rahl22]

Galamaethor tries to identify the origin of the black vapor.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[SPLH]

Brad looks up from his meal, his head instantly cleared from the vapors of hangover by the rush of adrenaline. He springs to his feet, draws his crossbow and starts running towards the exit with the least amount of black fog, screaming "We're under attack !"

Athletics roll :
[roll0]

[subject42]

Hacel examines the first man to fall. Despite his extensive knowledge, he has never seen any natural phenomenon with these symptoms. Palpating the man's torso indicates that abdominal area is swollen and uncomfortably cold to the touch. Each victim appears to be choking on a thick, viscous gel that evaporates into a dark smoke immediately upon leaving the body. The man looks up at Hacel with panicked eyes and gestures frantically at his throat.

Galamaethor has read of a similar smoke in Cors Lumbricis, a treatise on the realms of the angry dead. In the first layer of the realms, a thick black smoke pours off of the burning pyres of those who committed suicide after murdering their families. No light shines in this realm, and what light is created is consumed by the hungry smoke.

The mess hall deck is littered with bodies, furniture, crockery, and slick with the fluids of the afflicted. Brad has a difficult time reaching the exit, but is able to stumble through to the door.

The mess is growing darker, but each of you can make out that there are three men who seem to be unaffected by the chaos that surrounds you.

In a few short seconds, the smoke will fill the hall and it will be too dark to see.

[theterran]

Running late, as per usual, Mick hurries through the bowels of the airship, praying to whatever gods exist that there is food left. Stumbling into the mess, yelling, "Save me some food! Don't eat it all you sorry...", but the words die in his mouth as he sees the scene.

"What in tha..."

[subject42]

Tearing down the empty hallway, Mick is stopped short by another man barreling toward the door. Over his shoulder he can barely make out the scene in the mess, but something is obviously wrong.

Thinking back, he hasn't seen another soul since he stepped onto this deck...

[Master_Rahl22]

Galamaethor follows the man who ran out already. When he spots the man at the door, he says, "It's some kind of strange smoke from the realms of the angry dead, we must get off this deck!" He then heads for the nearest place where he would be able to contact a crew member.

[dark9174]

Stuck between choosing to go after the three unnaturally calm men, or run with the elf screaming about the stuff being from the realm of the dead, or help the man, Hacel looks down at the man, says "I don't know what to do." and follows the elf that seems to know what the stuff is.

[theterran]

"You've got to be kidding me...angry dead smoke? Really? BEFORE BREAKFAST!?!"

Mick follows the elf, figuring strength in numbers, or something. Plus, maybe he has some food on him since he was, after all, in the mess.

[subject42]

All of you run down the the corridor to the nearest ladder, with the smoke slowly billowing out of the door behind you.

If you take a moment to glance behind you, the smoke is expanding through the corridor, obscuring the direction from which you came. Tendrils of smoke are wriggling under the doors to cabins in its path.

There is a ladder leading up and a ladder leading down about sixty yards away, and the corridor continues until the curvature of the ship obscures its arc, about five hundred yards away.

[dark9174]

After looking at the smoke, Hacel looks at the elf that was screaming about to mist. "Since you seem to know what that stuff is, any ideas on what to do about the mist?" he asks in a weird combination of sarcasm and worried sincerity.

[Master_Rahl22]

Galamaethor replies, "The only thing I can think to do is simply to seal off the area and hope the smoke can't continue to spread. To do that we must find someone with the authority to quarantine part of the ship. Do you know if we're more likely to find an officer by going up or down?"

[dark9174]

Hacel looks at the smoke again. "I don't know. If we risk going in differnet directions, I can help us stay in contact, but that would be bad.

OOC: Is the air ship more like a boat with the bridge near the top, or a blimp with it near the bottom? Or would it require a skill check?

[subject42]

As you converse, the smoke slowly approaches. It pours across the floor and the first tendrils begin to seep down the ladder that leads deeper into the bowels of the ship.

You've seen people in officer's uniform's heading down to the engines and up towards a large tower like structure at the "top" of the ship. The tower structure has large glass windows, which is a rarity onboard.

Anything else would require a skill check.

[Master_Rahl22]

Galamaethor says, "We go up. The smoke may be able to spread upwars but it will do so more slowly than it spreads down. We look for a ship's officer." With that, he starts climbing.

[dark9174]

Hacel watches as Galameathor starts to climb up the ladder, looks at the smoke, than looks back up the ladder. "Isn't smoke less dense than air though?", he calls up unsure of the move, but than just goes along with it to escape the ever nearing smoke.

[subject42]

You bolt up the ladder. Entrances to other decks are approximately one every eight feet. The surface deck is approximately 15 decks above your current location. The smoke seems to be sinking into the decks below.

Do you wish to keep going until you hit topside, or do you want to turn off before that?